


Mr. Cello

by Snailsway



Category: TwoSet, Twosetviolin
Genre: Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:48:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27903223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snailsway/pseuds/Snailsway
Summary: Hyung/Brett/Eddy love triangle fic, from SSO days to now, based loosely on the small snippets of Hyung we see in their vids/insta.(Obviously, based on recent vids, Eddy has it in the bag, but oppa looked really good in QSO's recent vid so I had to write this O.O!! Later chapters will be skewed more Breddy >>)
Relationships: Eddy Chen/Brett Yang, Hyung Suk Bae/Brett Yang
Comments: 62
Kudos: 112





	1. Chapter 1

Hyung was the other Asian SSO fellow, and Brett knew he shouldn’t stereotype, but truth was, he thought Hyung looked like one of those standard, boring Asian dudes. It didn’t help that the conductor spent a disproportionate amount of time praising Hyung and his esteemed pedigree. What was so great about Juilliard anyway? Lame. So other than a polite nod, Brett largely ignored Hyung during orientation.

Somehow though, after he’d had one too many drinks at the after-party, Hyung was the one who helped him into a cab, and the next morning, Hyung was the one who got him a strong coffee for his hangover.

“Thanks,” Brett said, feeling a bit guilty. “I’m Brett, by the way. In case you didn’t catch my name.”

“I know. You kept repeating that last night. Along with, how was ‘Jelliard’ and ‘heard it was full of assholes.’”

“Ummmm.” Brett cleared his throat. “Okay, in my defense, I was really drunk.”

Hyung chuckled. “Yeah, I noticed that much.”

*

Brett was too embarrassed to continue conversation with Hyung after that, so he hid among the violins and tried to minimize contact. But after what happened, he couldn’t help paying Hyung just a little more attention too, so he ended up noticing things, like how truly beautiful Hyung’s music was, and more than that, how in love with music he was. Brett loved music too, and loved his violin, but somehow not like that. He couldn't completely lose himself in music the way Hyung could. 

Brett had established himself as the resident mood-maker and he could make everyone laugh, but Hyung was the one that impressed everyone with his music. Brett was a little bit jealous.

Never one to accept defeat, he practiced harder. He even spammed his insta with shots of his violin and #practice to prove it. But no one seemed to notice, except Eddy.

“You okay man? Do you even go out anymore?” Eddy asked, amused, on one of those weekends he stayed over.

“I’m fine. I just want to sound better, you know? It's competitive here.”

“You sound great though. Your Lalo’s improved a ton—much better intonation and projection.”

“Really?” Brett gave him a small grin. He could always count on Eddy to cheer him up.

*

But Eddy wasn’t around much these days. He had school and his girlfriend. Besides, Eddy had always looked up to him, like a little brother. Deep down, Brett knew that he wasn’t really looking for Eddy’s approval.

*

On the day that Hyung nailed his solo, Brett meandered to the rooftop by himself and stared into the harbor with a defeated pout.

“At least I don’t make Yo-Yo Ma faces when I play,” he muttered.

“No, but you do move your lips a lot.”

Brett jumped.

Hyung walked over, leaned leisurely against the railing and turned to Brett with a teasing smile. “And what’s wrong with Yo-Yo Ma? He’s an amazing cellist. I would kill to be him. Yo-Yo Ma. Yo Mama.”

“ … What?”

Hyung dropped the smile in embarrassment. “Never mind. Anyway, you sounded really good today too. The vibrato on the high notes, in particular, sounded much sweeter than last week.”

“Really, you think so?” Brett asked. Realizing that he sounded maybe a little too eager, he added, “I mean, I’m just surprised, because it’s not like I’ve done anything special, you know? So yeah. What are you doing up here?”

Hyung showed him his phone, open to the Pokemon Go app. “Thought I saw a Charizard up here.”

Brett looked at him in surprise. “You play too?”

“You also?”

“Just recently. Eddy’s obsessed. Eddy’s my friend from back home.” Brett was already getting out his own phone as he spoke. “I think it’s kind of stupid, but—is the Charizard still here? Eddy’ll be so jealous if I get one first.”

“Eddy, huh …” Hyung said softly.

“What was that?” Brett asked. He leaned close to Hyung to peer at his phone. “Wait, so where is it? The Charizard, I mean.”

“Hmm, could’ve sworn I saw one here …”

“So it’s gone?”

Hyung shrugged. “Guess it’s gone. Want to go get lunch instead? I found a good sushi place nearby. Heard you liked sushi.”

“Uh. Sure … and I do like sushi,” Brett mused, forgetting to ask Hyung where he’d heard that.

*

Lunch turned into dinner turned into late-night Pokemon rendezvouses in the park. Brett eventually forgot why he thought Hyung was a boring guy in the first place.

He's actually pretty funny, Brett told Eddy on the phone. Had a sort of droll sarcasm that was always accompanied by a harmless smile, which took off the edge. 

“Sounds like you’ve found yourself a friend finally in Sydney,” Eddy replied.

“Yep! Guess so.”

“Hey so, this weekend’s still good right, for me to come over? I should get there Friday evening?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’ve got to go now though. Hyung and I are going to this new club.”

“Oh, cool. That’s cool. Um. Bye.”

“Bye!”

Actually, it wasn’t just Hyung and him, but also other party people from the orchestra. Brett wasn’t even sure why Hyung went to these things with them, because he usually just sat around all evening with his glass of whatever and didn’t seem all that involved in the clubbing aspect of the experience. But Brett didn’t mind all that much either, because at least he knew that with Hyung there, he could go all out and someone would still make sure he got home safely.

“It’s good you’re here,” he remarked sleepily, leaning heavily against Hyung as Hyung lugged him towards the car at the end of the night.

Hyung scoffed lightly, but not without affection. “Yes, I think so too.”

*

Brett didn’t _forget_ that Eddy was coming, but he got a little mixed up on the time, so by the time he got back to his apartment, Eddy was already sitting outside. He stared pitifully at Brett, looking very much like a large, abandoned puppy.

“I’m so sorry! I thought you weren’t getting here until 9 so we ended up getting dessert—”

“—Who’s _we_?”

“Oh, just me and Hyung,” Brett said, fumbling with his keys. “Have you eaten?”

“No,” Eddy mumbled. “I was waiting for you.”

“Aww. Sorry, Eddy. Should I make you something? I have…instant noodles?”

“…Will you add an egg?”

Brett laughed. “Yes, I can add an egg.”

“And cheese …?”

“Now you’re asking for too much.”

*

Brett felt guilty all evening, but since Eddy didn’t mention it again, he stopped thinking about it too. He was therefore surprised when they’d both gotten into bed, and Eddy said, “I’m glad you have new friends here, but … we’re still _best_ friends, right?”

Brett stopped scrolling on his phone and frowned. “Bro, what? Of course.”

“Okay,” Eddy said softly. “I just sometimes feel like our lives are growing apart, and I don’t like it.”

He couldn’t see Eddy’s face in the darkness, but could hear the hurt in his voice. It annoyed him a little, honestly. He didn’t see why Eddy had to be so sensitive about the whole thing, especially because if anyone was being replaced, it was Brett.

“Well, I’m not the one who’s always cancelling plans to hang out with my girlfriend, so…”

“That’s not fair, Brett. That’s different.”

“I don’t see how—” Brett stopped himself and took a deep breath. He was the older one here, the one who’d graduated and was working a real job. He shouldn’t let Eddy carry him away. “Never mind. I’m sorry about tonight. It won’t happen again. Let’s just go to sleep, yeah?”

"...Yeah, okay. I'm sorry too."


	2. Chapter 2

“What’s Seoul like?”

“You’ll find out next week.”

“Hopefully cooler than here,” Brett whined. Another sweltering December day in Sydney, and they were all suited up for an interview. It was inhumane, if you asked him.

“It’ll be cold. Make sure you bring enough clothing.”

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, do you think it’s unprofessional that I didn’t wear an undershirt? You can’t tell, can you?”

Hyung eyed his chest, where his white button-up was at its most translucent. “Only if I look hard enough.”

Brett felt his face heat up. Tugging his blazer lapels closer, he cleared his throat self-consciously and said, “I’m sure no one’s looking.”

“You never know. Someone might be looking,” Hyung said lightly.

*

Brett was still half pondering this after the interview, when they all walked down to lunch.

“And then Brett said his special skill was that he can walk downstairs really fast,” Bridget recounted to the group. “Which is fucking weird.” 

Between giggles, Julia asked, “Is that true? Brett, can you demo please?”

Brett grinned and said sure can.

But he overestimated how fast he could walk in his slippery dress shoes and almost tumbled down the stairs. Fortunately, some quick-eyed person grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back. The person being Hyung, obviously.

“Ah, thanks.” Brett cursed himself in his head. It was uncomfortably warm where Hyung’s hand circled his arm.

“No worries.” Hyung held on until they reached the next landing. As he let go, he said, “You know, Brett, you could slow down sometimes.”

Brett wrinkled his nose at the older boy. “What’s that supposed to mean, you grandpa?”

Hyung responded with a soft, oblique, “Cute.”

“What?”

The rest of the group had caught up though, drawing a period on the weird exchange.

*

The weekend before he departed on SSO's tour, Eddy was over to film a few videos and, ostensibly, to help Brett pack. The videos were filmed without a hitch, but the packing stalled, with Eddy glancing furtively at his phone every few minutes.

Finally, Brett had enough. “You can text her. You don’t have to hide it. I didn’t really mean anything that last time…I was just tired I think. Anyway, we all know you’re dating.”

Eddy looked chastened. “Sorry. It’s just that we’re supposed to grab dinner, but I told her I’d be late, so it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. Just go, you idiot. Girls never get over that sort of thing!”

Eddy pressed his lips together hesitantly. “You sure? I can stay to help you clean up and stuff. We kind of made a mess…And its your last weekend here.”

Brett made a shooing motion at Eddy. “Yeah dude, I got it. Go spend time with her. It’s her first time in Sydney in awhile, isn’t it? Anyway, I’m only gone for a month. Go before she dumps you.”

Eddy dilly-dallied a bit longer, but ultimately left with another string of apologies.

He didn’t come back later that night, even though he'd said he would. Not that Brett expected him to. And not that Brett cared.

Brett's phone lit up just as he was about to fall asleep.

_I recommend a heavy scarf for Seoul. Also, I plan on getting to the airport at 7. You?_

7? Their flight was at 11. Brett snickered to himself.

_K grandpa. Not going before 9._

*

On the flight to Seoul, Brett found himself sandwiched between Bridget and Ben, while Hyung enjoyed a row by himself with his cello.

“Are you utterly devastated to be separated from Hyung?” asked Ben.

Brett rolled his eyes as he angled his camera phone at Hyung. “We’re not attached at the hip.”

“But…you _are_ taking weird stalker photos of him?”

“It’s just a joke,” Brett said. “Calm down.”

_What drink would you like, Mr. Cello?_ He posted the insta with a covert little grin, and glanced sneakily at Hyung when they deplaned, wondering if he would notice and what his reaction might be.

Of course, it would also be fine if he didn’t notice. The post didn’t mean anything.

*

He didn’t notice.

It was the end of the day—they’d rehearsed and socialized and consumed vast quantities Korean bbq and soju—and Hyung hadn’t said a word.

Brett dragged his feet on their way back to the hotel, a little bit disappointed. He had thought it was cute and clever, that’s all. _Hmph_.

“Where’s your scarf? Didn’t I tell you to bring one?”

“Left it at the hotel,” Brett mumbled. He shrunk his neck further into his coat, his body wilting under the frigid winds. He'd asked for cooler weather, but not this. 

A warm scarf wound itself loosely around Brett’s neck. Brett looked up at Hyung in surprise.

“Aren’t you going to be cold?”

“I’m Korean.”

That seemed neither here nor there, since Hyung had also grown up in Australia. But Hyung offered, and the scarf was soft and smelled nice. Brett snuggled into it with a complacent little smile.

He returned the scarf at the door to his hotel room.

“Thanks,” he said softly.

Hyung took the scarf but didn’t leave. He stepped a bit closer, in fact, and pressed Brett lightly against the door. His breath grazed Brett’s neck as he asked, “That’s all you have to say, Mr. Violin?”

Brett’s heart beat a little faster. But it’s just a little harmless flirting, nothing he couldn’t handle. He wrapped his arms around the older boy. “Why? What else did you have in mind?”

Hyung pulled him in by the waist, leaned down and kissed him.

* * *

“I wouldn’t say we’re _dating_ ,” Brett remarked nonchalantly.

“Then what are you?” Eddy asked, confused.

“Just … I don’t know.”

“Friends with benefits?”

“Something like that. Anyway, there he is.”

Hyung sauntered over to their table at the restaurant and extended a hand to Eddy. Eddy shook it nervously. “Hi, I’ve heard so much about you.” Brett almost laughed. Calm down, he tried to channel telepathically.

“Hi Eddy. Likewise.” Compared to Eddy, Hyung was much more at ease. He slid into the empty seat next to Brett and leaned over to look at his menu. “Sorry I’m late. Have you guys already ordered? What are you getting?”

“Nah. Thinking about either the eggs benedict or the pancakes. But I kind of want both.”

“Then you get one and I’ll get the other and we can share.”

Brett grinned at Hyung. Exactly what he’d been angling for. “Kay. What about you Eddy?”

Eddy took a moment to answer, as if the words were caught in his throat.

*

“Your fellowship is almost over, isn’t it?”

Brett yawned and nodded.

He’d spent the day rehearsing for the upcoming chamber performance with Pinchas Zukerman, which was amazing but thoroughly exhausting. He’d even fallen dead asleep on the ride home and had to be shaken awake by Hyung.

“I thought I’d have to carry you to your door or something,” Hyung teased as he opened Brett’s car door for him.

“If you’re offering, I accept,” Brett replied and lazily held his arms out to the older boy. Hyung laughed, but picked him up as requested. “What big, strong arms you have, Mr. Cello,” Brett murmured, prodding at said arms.

“Behave or I’ll drop you.”

Hyung was just about to set Brett down when Eddy opened the door. Eddy took one look at them and broke into flustered apologies.

“It’s okay, Eddy. I knew you were here.” Hyung set Brett down gently and counseled him not to stay up too late. “Eddy, make sure he doesn’t overexert himself, okay? He’s already tired from rehearsal.”

“Oh my god, I’m fine. Go away, you grandpa,” Brett complained. But he was smiling and he gave Hyung a peck on the cheek before pushing him off.

It was hours later now and Brett had definitely overexerted himself with the endless editing. But he was still young, and had energy to squander.

“I didn’t renew my contract,” said Eddy.

Brett, who had been struggling to stay awake, suddenly jolted to attention. “Like your … job contract?”

“I just think that I shouldn’t split my attention like this. I’d rather take a gamble and focus on one thing and do it well, you know? With you.”

“Oh.”

“But I mean, you don’t have to…as long as one of us frees up, I think it’ll work. Just think about it, that’s all.”

*

Brett shivered as a cold wave crashed over his bare feet. Sydney was entering into winter now, and the beach was gloomy and barren. He was grateful when Hyung hugged him loosely around the waist, and he huddled closer to the warmth Hyung offered.

“You’ll go, of course.”

Brett peered at him skeptically. “How would you know?”

“I know you.”

“Shouldn’t you try to talk me out of it?”

Hyung chuckled. “You wouldn’t be happy here. Anyway, I’ll still be around. You could invite me as a guest. I did graduate from Jelliard, you know, so that’ll give your channel some legitimacy.”

Brett suddenly felt a little bit like crying. He stared blankly at the horizon until the feeling faded.


	3. Chapter 3

Brett would be lying if he said that he never regretted their busking adventures for a minute. There were, in fact, many moments of regret, particularly when he was lying awake in his sleeping bag in the dark, imagining all the horrible things that could happen to them while they slept. And it was in those moments that he gave in to his fears and sent Hyung strings of nonsensical texts full of crying emojis.

When Hyung finally called, he’d been on edge for days and was at the brink of a breakdown.

“I don’t know man. This is crazy. Why did I do this to myself?” he moaned into the phone, off-camera. “Why did I think we could go on a world tour? What the flying fuck? Why didn’t you stop me?”

Hyung laughed on the other end. “Please, as if you could be stopped. Anyway, I think you’re doing great. Both of you. We’re all rooting for you here.”

“You’re watching the stream then?”

“Yep.”

“And you’ll save me if I need it?” he asked, joking but not really. If he hadn’t set off on this insane venture, he could be sleeping on Hyung’s soft bed in Hyung’s cozy flat, and waking up to the smell of fresh brewed coffee. 

“Always.”

Granted, Hyung was all the way in Sydney and couldn’t actually do anything. But Brett felt calmer just listening to his voice, and knowing that he was out there watching. He wasn’t sure what gave him the confidence, but in those days, he harbored a vague belief that Hyung would extricate him and haul him back to the safety and routine of professional orchestra if he got in over his head—that he could rush headlong towards his crazy dreams without inhibition, because he could always fall back on plan B. Maybe that wasn’t fair, but that’s how it was.

That night, just before Brett fell asleep, Eddy reached tentatively for his hand.

“You know I’m here for you too, right?”

Brett gave him a sleepy, confused look, then squeezed his hand and said, “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”

“I just meant that you can depend on me too . . .” Eddy said softly. But by then, Brett had fallen asleep.

*

Anyway, happily for them, they did turn out to be fine, and Brett didn’t need to fall back on plan B after all. 

*

Vienna in November was already freezing as fuck, but Brett barely felt it. And while he hadn’t slept for a long time, that didn’t matter much either. What mattered was that he had somehow, with his bare hands, clawed his way from the backwaters of Brisbane to the city of Mozart, and they loved him here. Could any musician ask for more?

“Sometimes, I feel like I’m living in a dream,” Eddy said wistfully.

“Ew,” said Brett, though of course, he felt that way too.

They should be asleep by now, with the concert and the jetlag and everything, but Brett had convinced Eddy to sneak out for a few minutes, as he always did, and they had made their way past the city’s palaces and gardens and concert halls, to the famed Sacher Hotel, where they couldn’t afford to stay yet (one day, maybe?). They could afford the café though, so that evening found them huddled over a small table among hordes of tourists, chatting over a shared slice of Sacher Torte until the cake diminished down to one last bite.

“You have it,” said Brett, not without some reluctance. “I’m supposed to be cutting back on carbs,”

Eddy snorted. “Well, we both know you’re not, so . . .” He pushed the plate towards Brett, who gave up the pretense and enthusiastically stuffed the last bite in his mouth with an obscene moan.

“Do you have to make these sounds,” Eddy asked, averting his eyes in embarrassment.

Brett let out a satisfied burp. “Yes.”

With their bellies full of cake, Eddy miraculously talked Brett out of late-night bar-hopping ( _you really need sleep, just look at your eyes_ ), and they moseyed slowly back to the hotel along the majestic boulevards of the Ringstrasse. It was a cloudy evening, cloaked in a misty rain that lent the city a romantic charm.

“Rain blurs out the imperfections,” Eddy mused poetically.

“And the road signs,” said Brett, running a few steps ahead and squinting at the street corners. “You know, the issue with these old European cities is they don’t mark their streets clearly. Are we lost?”

Eddy rolled his eyes and tugged Brett back under the umbrella he was holding. “Stop running in the rain; you’ll catch a cold again. And no, we’re not. Just because you’re directionally challenged, doesn’t mean I am.”

“If you say so,” Brett replied, allowing Eddy to lead him onwards.

Brett walked with a small skip to his step and wonder on his face, like a kid in a candy store. And Eddy watched Brett quietly with a soft look in his eye, never mentioning that they were taking the long way.

It took awhile for Brett to notice that Eddy was still holding his hand. With an awkward laugh, he tried to extricate it, but Eddy only held on tighter.

“What . . .?”

“It’s warmer this way,” said Eddy, his voice pleasantly low and sincere. “And this way, I won’t lose you.”

All of a sudden, Brett felt a flurry of butterflies in his stomach. He sank deeper into his coat, trying to hide the flush that was surely spreading across his cheeks.

_What the fuck_ , he thought to himself. _This is Eddy we’re talking about. I can’t possibly—Get it together._

Eddy studied him silently from the corner of his eye with a growing smile.

*

And after that, Brett went to other cities, met other fans, performed other concerts, but what remained constant, always, was Eddy by his side. 

*

And the other thing that never changed was that, years after they met, Eddy remained unusually shy around Hyung.

“Is it me? Am I intimidating?” Hyung asked, puzzled, after they finished filming the video where they learned cello. 

Brett shrugged. Eddy had left for a date and he was pressing kisses along Hyung’s neck— it’d been forever since he’d had gotten laid—so not particularly interested in this line of inquiry.

“He’s a pretty fast learner though.”

Brett pouted. “I’m a fast learner too. You just didn’t pay enough attention to me.”

Hyung chuckled and pulled him in for another languorous kiss.

“I pay too much attention to you. And you're hopeless.”

“Nuh-uh,” Brett said breathlessly.

Afterwards, after Hyung had his way and Brett could no longer do anything except lie lazily in the crook of his arm (he was a little rougher than usual, not that Brett minded), Brett’s thoughts began drifting away again. Even as he buried his face contentedly against Hyung’s chest, his mind was thinking about his next video with Eddy, their next extravaganza, the next perfect performance of Navarra.

Hyung ruffled his hair with a resigned sigh.

“What?” Brett asked innocently.

“Nothing,” said Hyung. “Just that you never could stay rooted.”

(And you could never be mine.)

*

As a parting gift, Hyung left a visible hickey on his pale neck, which Eddy stared at with narrowed eyes.

“So, Hyung’s still a thing," he declared, coldly. 

Brett rolled his eyes and continued tuning his violin. “Well, Toni’s still a thing, isn’t she?”

Eddy stared at him thoughtfully for a beat or two, then suddenly smiled and stepped closer. “So that’s the issue?”

Brett pushed him away with a huff. “There’s no issue, bro.”

*

Eddy announced his break-up with Toni later that month, at which Brett expressed complete surprise.

“It had nothing to do with me,” he told Hyung. “I don’t know why you would think that. I had no idea. He’s probably just too busy. You know what girls are like.”

Hyung smiled and said nothing. 

“Anyway, he also wants to move to Singapore. Isn’t that crazy? Why would we move to Singapore? Where would we live? Who’s going to feed us--”

“Maybe he wants to settle down,” Hyung interrupted. “Men of a certain age do, you know.”

“What does that mean? We’re not that old.”

“I guess. But maybe he’s figured out what he really wants. Anyway, I guess this is goodbye."

Brett blinked a few times as he felt a lump form in his throat.

He'd been saying goodbye to Hyung for years now, but those weren't _real_ goodbyes. Just temporary placeholders. He'd be back, sooner or later, they both knew that. 

Only this time . . . 

"I don't even know if I'm going yet."

Hyung looked at him with amusement. 

Because of course, he said yes to Singapore. As it turned out, he always said yes to Eddy.

*

Christmas 2019. They’d finally finished posting their 12 days of Christmas video, and had collapsed on the couch in exhaustion. On the coffee table was a half-eaten strawberry cake and a bottle of champagne that they were too tired to open.

Still, it was somehow magical, just the two of them spending Christmas together in their new home.

“You know, Eddy,” Brett remarked absently, “Your voice changes when you talk to fangirls. I noticed when I was editing the outtakes.”

“Does it?”

“Yeah, it’s all low and shit.”

Eddy smirked, shifted closer to Brett, and asked in a low voice close to Brett’s ear, “You jealous?”

Brett shrugged him away. “No. I just don’t know why you do it.”

“Habit, I guess,” said Eddy. He leaned his head against Brett’s shoulder and peered up at him. “But I can stop if you want me to.”

“Wh-why would I—I don’t care.” Brett looked away with a blush. “Anyway get up, you’re heavy.”

Eddy smirked, but didn’t move. Instead, he placed his hand over Brett’s smaller one and interlaced their fingers.

“Merry Christmas, Bretty.”

Brett peeked at their hands shyly, but didn’t move either. 

“ . . . Merry Christmas, Eddy.”


	4. Chapter 4

2020 began inauspiciously, for obvious reasons, but also because Brett got sick at the beginning of the year and Eddy briefly experienced the horrors of OneSet Violin.

“I never want to do that again, so you better take care of yourself.”

“Okay, I get that, but I’m not going to go poof before your eyes, so can you not stare at me like that in our videos? It’s really…”

Eddy turned towards Brett, resting his head on his hand, and lifted a corner of his lips. “Distracting?”

“Disturbing. It’s disturbing. Our fans might notice and be disturbed.”

Eddy shrugged nonchalantly. “I think they like it, actually. Do you not like it?”

“Well-I-I…”

*

Brett seemed to recall that Eddy had once been shy, or whatever, but that felt like a long time ago now and he sometimes had a hard time reconciling the Eddy before his eyes with the Eddy of his memories.

“Which one do you like more?” Eddy asked.

But that was a silly question, which Brett waved away without answering.

He liked Eddy—all iterations of Eddy. That was all.

*

With the move back to Australia, and Brett’s illness, and quarantine, Brett didn’t get to “see” Hyung again until they filmed their epic cello performances video. And that had been exciting, a fun video, with two of his favorite people in the world making all the corniest dad jokes.

There were just a few hiccups, if they could even be called that. A few instances of, _Brett, you’ve heard this one before._ Or _you remember this?_ Or _I played this for encore, remember?_ And while Eddy chortled innocently next to him, Brett couldn’t help feeling just a tad guilty, because he could hear the expectation in Hyung’s voice.

“Sorry,” he said to Hyung, after they finished filming. And he was sorry—sorry for being a terrible friend, and a worse lover. Or ex-lover, he supposed. 

“Why?” Hyung smiled graciously without looking upset at all. “Don’t worry about it. It all happened so long ago.”

But they both knew that wasn’t true, because he’d only known Hyung for a few years total, so none these events could be have happened that long ago, especially compared to his ancient memories with Eddy, most of which he could still recall at will.

So at what point had his memories with and about Hyung begun to fade? And why?

Eddy didn’t give him a lot of time to reflect on this. As they powered down the equipment for the evening, Eddy suddenly turned to him and asked, “You’re not still into him, are you? Asking for a friend.”

Brett side-eyed Eddy. “And which friend would that be?” he teased.

But there was hitch in his voice, and he couldn’t quite control the pounding of his heart as Eddy drew near and leaned towards him, stopping just before their lips met.

Up close, Brett realized that Eddy’s face was suspiciously red; that his eyes sought out Brett’s uncertainly, searching for reassurance; that beneath the deeper voice and the clever eloquence, he was still that shy Eddy Chen that Brett had met all those years ago.

Brett smiled gently and closed the distance between them.

They kissed hesitantly at first, slow kisses with pauses in between as they sought each other’s permission for a second kiss, then a third. And then they couldn’t seem to stop kissing, even as they stumbled their way to Eddy’s room and fell into his bed.

The way Eddy kissed was exactly as Brett imagined (on the rare occasions he allowed himself to imagine)—shy at first, but warm and sincere, then with more confidence as he felt Brett give in. More confidence and maybe even a touch of possessiveness, because when Eddy wanted something, he wanted all of it, and right then, or perhaps since long ago, he wanted Brett.

And Brett, he was almost 30, so he’d kissed a lot of people, all sorts of people. But with Eddy, he somehow forgot about all that—forgot how to flirt, how to play games, how to do anything, really. All he knew was that his heart was beating much too fast, and his body felt as if it were lit on fire, and he never wanted it to stop.

Kissing with Eddy, it felt like the first time.

*

“Brett,” Eddy said softly.

Brett responded with an exhausted _what_ as he burrowed closer against Eddy.

Eddy tightened his hold around Brett. “I don’t like to share.”

“Hmm.”

“And I don’t want to friends with benefits.”

“Hmmmmm. So what do you want to be?” Brett asked lazily.

“Your boyfriend.”

And like some stupid lovesick teen, Brett blushed.

“What do you say, Brett?”

“…Fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Debating if I want to end it here. HMMMM.


	5. Chapter 5

By the end of summer, they felt invincible again and thought they'd make it through 2020 relatively unscathed.

"I want to go back to Singapore," said Eddy, with a puppy-like pout. "I want to live together again. Then we don't have to worry about our parents walking in on us, and we can do it more oft—"

"Oh my god, stop."

But they ended flying back to Singapore anyway, and although they'd done it once before, this time felt different. They were building a new life together, just the two of them, peppered with stolen glances and subtle touches and breathless kisses behind the camera.

"You know Bretty, this cute, innocent persona you've got going on is nice," Eddy murmured, brushing Brett's long fringe aside after he'd kissed him senseless on the couch. "Very convincing. I like it."

Brett frowned and punched Eddy harmlessly on the shoulder. "Don't push it. I'm not cute."

Eddy grinned cheekily. "Ok. Sure."

What Brett didn't say was that, around Eddy, it wasn't entirely an act.

* * *

When the problems did start to appear, they did so subtly, little hairline cracks that didn't amount to much, until they accumulated one after another.

There was the fact that they couldn't go on tour so they had to rely on Youtube. That was totally fine with Brett at first, because tour could be exhausting, but what he hadn't realized was that relying on Youtube meant filming uninspired reaction video after reaction video to things that he couldn't give a shit about.

"It's just the algorithm," Eddy said, when he noticed that Brett's attention was beginning to flag. "It helps grow the channel."

But Eddy was good at giving reactions to everything, and Brett wasn't. Brett could only feign so much before it showed.

And at the same time, there were the issues with their merch, their models, their commentary, their skits, their manager ... they kept coming, snowballing inexorably until they couldn't be ignored. Someone was always upset by something they did, and they weren't even things that Brett really wanted to do. 

Brett found it increasingly hard to smile in front of the camera. He found it hard to sleep at night, and to stay alert through their exhausting, long days as they continued to churn out endless videos that he wouldn't watch twice.

"Are you okay?" Eddy would ask, and Brett could see the worry in his eyes.

"Yeah, fine," Brett would reply with an easy laugh.

Growing pains, right? The price of fame. No free lunch. All the clichés were true.

"Maybe we should stop for awhile," Eddy suggested. "You look really tired."

"I'm okay. And don't worry, we'll be fine."

Eddy sighed and drew him into a hug. "You still don't totally trust me, do you?" he whispered, his voice suffused with disappointment.

This confused Brett. "Of course I do."

*

Occasionally, just every once in awhile, he would let himself dream about those early days, when they were still carefree kids traveling the world and climbing their way to the top. He thought about eating chocolate cake in Vienna, and running through the snow in Norway, about performing Navarra against a backdrop of stars.

He thought about the fact that, not so long ago, all he had to do was play music, and how he kind of wanted to do that again.

*

He was jealous of Hyung, because all Hyung had to do was play music.

One of their new staff members was streaming QSO's video when they walked in, and there was Hyung, front and center, playing the cello like it was his whole world. Brett stopped in his tracks, mesmerized.

"This cellist, he's really legit," the new girl remarked, starry-eyed. " Brett, were you actually colleagues with him? This guy seems way too legit for you guys. Like, an actual Ling Ling or whatever."

Brett's heart clenched.

Yes, he wanted to tell her. Once upon a time, he spent his days performing on the same stage as Hyung, with some of the best musicians in the world. A wave of nostalgia crashed over him. Those days had been tiring too, but pleasant in their own way. He didn't have to play a character. He could curse and make off-color jokes, could chase after Pokemon in the streets without fear of being recognized, could play the violin instead of thinking up pointless things to say about pointless videos ...

And if he'd chosen to stay then, where would he be now?

Eddy was glaring at the girl and looked ready to say something biting when Brett beat him to it with a quiet laugh. "He's definitely too legit for us now," he said. He knew he sounded wistful, and that it hurt Eddy, but he couldn't help it.

He had her play the video again, tried to calm himself with the tranquil voices of the cellos.

He felt very tired.

*

Brett was laying in bed when Hyung face-timed him.

"Did Eddy tell you I wasn't feeling well?"

"Technically, he told the whole world. How are you doing?"

Hyung didn't sound as breezy as he normally did—sounded unusually anxious, almost frantic.

"Yeah, just getting old, you know?" Brett replied with a weak chuckle. "But anyway, I saw your video. Looking good, Mr. Cello. Proud of you."

There was brief pause as Hyung stared hard at Brett's face through the screen. Then he said, very softly, "Brett, sometimes I regret it."

"What?"

"For not trying harder to slow you down."

Brett's eyes widened in surprise, but Hyung didn't give him a chance to crack a joke about him being a grandpa. 

"And for not trying harder to keep you here. With me. Have you thought about what you want to do next?"

"Next ...?" Brett repeated woodenly, still trying to process Hyung's words. 

"Well, you don't have to be a Youtuber forever, you know," Hyung suggested. "There are other options. You could come back to the orchestra, for example."

Other options.

So he was in over his head after all, and here was Hyung, three years later, swooping in to save him with that elusive plan B.

"And if you come back, Mr. Violin," he added with a gentle smile laced with raw yearning that he had never before allowed himself to show. "I won't let you go so easily this time."

"...Hyung, I..."

*

After the call, Brett found Eddy in their kitchen, making dinner. He tiptoed over and hugged the other man tight from behind.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"What are you making?"

"...Ramen?"

Brett snorted. "When the doctor recommended home-cooked meals, I don't think that's what he had in mind."

"But I'm adding cabbage."

"Well, that's...gross."

"Cabbage is nutritious. And we paid for it, so we need to—"

"—Eddy, Hyung just called."

"...I know..."

"And it made me think of something."

"What?" Eddy asked, without turning to face Brett. His voice shook a little, and something wet landed on Brett's hand, where he held Eddy. Brett smiled and hugged him tighter.

"That I don't know when I'll recover from this, whatever this is.

"Brett Yang--"

"And that maybe, I don't want to be a Youtuber forever."

"..."

"And that I don't want to hold you back from doing whatever you want to do, but I do want to keep making music, with you, as Twoset. And that right now, that's all I want to do."

And so maybe there was no plan B anymore, or maybe there never was. Maybe everyone else knew it before he did--that there was only one plan, and this was it.

Eddy held still for a few seconds before he finally turned around, eyes suspiciously teary and his smile trembling at the corners. (Still a crybaby, after all these years.) He wrapped his arms around Brett.

"Ew. Where's Brett Yang and what have you done with him?"

Brett rolled his eyes. "Oh please. That's what you want too, isn't it?"

Eddy laughed helplessly, then bent down and kissed him.

"Yeah."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote this fic because I wanted to write the scene of Hyung getting a little worked up since he actually likes Brett a lot LOL And originally, Brett was supposed to struggle a little more in the decision of whether he might leave Youtube/Twoset, but as I was writing it I realized there was no way he'd not choose Eddy, so...
> 
> Anyway, happy holidays to all! :)


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